Overwhelmed

I’ve been meaning to write for weeks but things have been so overwhelming that it has been hard to center myself long enough to get a complete thought down. Overwhelming has such a bad connotation, but I assure you that’s not it at all. I am overwhelmed every single day by many things -- gratitude, pride, generosity, thoughtfulness...I honestly could go on forever. One thing is for sure though, my heart is completely full. In a time where things could be considered so sad or unfair, people have taught me just how amazing this world can be when we work together and take care of each other.

I start to type and I want to write about the pride I feel for my boys. I want to write about my family who have done so much. About other families who have made my heart feel ways that I never felt before with things like the Painted Rock and the Loftus Memorial. I want to write about the kindness of people - especially children. I want to write about TJ who made the nurses promise to take care of Jack. I want to write about people around the world who rallied for our boy. About those who have stormed the heavens with prayers for his recovery and strength. I want to share how I feel people are with us who are no longer with us. How I see signs often of them looking over our boy. I want to share so very much but it’s very hard to put all these things into words. I am overwhelmed with a feeling that is simply indescribable. 

Regardless of what’s making me feel this way, it all comes back to one amazing little boy - my Jack. My little boy, who I can’t help but to look back and wonder just how long he had a normal life before he started to become sick. He has given me so much pride, joy, strength, courage -- you name it, he’s done it. He’s grown up during this crazy journey...a lot. He gone from my redheaded baby-faced sitting boy, to a bald boy running around his hospital room with the best toothy grin on the planet. He’s gone from quiet to babbling, an observer to the life of the party. He’s transformed from the perfect patient to a wild man who has pulled out his port during chemo. He’s gone from looking around the hospital room looking at us for affirmation that things will be okay, to completely commanding the space and making us all forget that it’s anything but his happy place. We talk a lot about how being in that room feels better than being home because Jack makes you feel so great about things when you’re with him. In the times when things get real and he has to have a procedure or go through something not-so-fun, Jack still never ceases to amaze us. Jack, at a measly 16 months old, is by far the toughest person I’ve ever met. That isn’t only my opinion by the way, since I’m obviously bias. Many people have commented on how he handles things like a champ -- crying for only a short minute then going right back to playing and being his Happy Jack self. I think that he is strong because he is channeling all the prayers, positive vibes, happy thoughts, intentions, everything that everyone has so graciously wished him and turned it into strength. My boy is so very strong...and it is because of all of you. 

So with that being said, I’m going to type something that I literally can’t believe I get to type. Jack Carter Callahan had what can very well be his last dose of chemo today.  Jack’s journey is by no means over -- not by a long shot. We will be spending so much more time at the hospital and will continue to be there for years. He will always be a cancer kid... and we don’t know when or if this awful disease will return. So, sure, we don’t know what the future can bring - we have no idea. But worrying for the future is for the weak, and because of you all and of the courage of a little bald headed, gap-toothed boy...We Are Strong. Thank you will never be enough.